I crank up the AC/DC as I turn into the park and head towards the walking path. The mid-October air is very cool and stings my cheeks. My mind is racing and even some classic 80’s rock isn’t cutting it tonight. I don’t know what it is about Avery, but she scrambles my damn brain cells. One minute I’m thinking about joining someone in bed and the next I’m wishing that someone was Avery. If Jake could read my mind, I’m pretty sure I’d be dead by now.
There are a million reasons why I shouldn’t be thinking about her at all. One, there’s Jake. He’s my best friend, and I’d be breaking the unwritten guy code if I so much as thought about her naked. And now I’m thinking about her naked. With her long, lean legs and curves in all the right places, I bet she’s fucking hot naked.
Then there’s the ten year age gap. That doesn’t help. And that brings me to my next hang-up; she has a kid. A kid! I don’t know anything about kids, nor do I really want to. But, I have to admit, that kid is pretty cool. I don’t mind being around her. Jake watches Brooklyn for Avery every once in awhile on our days off, and I have discovered that I actually don’t mind hanging out with him while she’s there. Now, other kids? Hell no. Just the sound of a screaming, crying kid in the grocery store is enough for me to abandon my cart and run straight back out the front door.
As I make my way to the end of the park, near the edge of town, I decide to head out of the park and hit some side roads. I don’t know anyone who lives in this area of town so I know I don’t have to worry about being stopped and having to make small talk. I’m definitely not in the mood to chit chat with anyone.
When I reach the end of the street, I stop in front of a big house that always seems to catch my eye. I find myself driving by it on patrol or running by it more and more frequently. I have no idea what I find so appealing about this house. It’s not too big, but it’s definitely made for a family. A family that I never intend to have. The backyard is big and fenced in and I can almost see my friends gathering in the backyard with food and beer. It has a big front porch, too, which I love, but my favorite part is the big garage. I’ve been told there is an attached shop area on the back of it. I wouldn’t need a whole shop for working on stuff, but I could definitely use a space for tinkering. Plus, the thought of a man cave with big television, comfy chairs, fridge, and maybe a pool table is appealing as hell.
I start to jog again, heading back towards home. I take a moment to actually entertain the thought of living in a house like that one, maybe a wife and kids waiting there for me when I get home from work. Someone like Avery who is funny and sweet and sexy as hell. A kid like Brooklyn and maybe a brother or two.
The thought of a future with Avery doesn’t completely turn my stomach which actually might scare me most of all.
After tucking Brooklyn into bed and reading three different princess stories, I grab my phone and head to the front porch. I hit the best friend lottery when I met Holly Jenkins in seventh grade. We met during volleyball after we both discovered we weren’t exactly the athletic type, and we’ve been joined at the hip ever since. Besides my mom, she’s the only other person I confide in and truly trust. When everything with Drake came to a head, she wiped my tears, answered her phone at all hours of the night, held my hand in the bathroom when I peed on that stick and waited for the plus sign, and held my hair back when I threw up everything I ate that first trimester. She’s Brooklyn’s Godmother, and I know she loves my little girl like she’s her own. She’s proof that blood isn’t the only thing that makes a couple of girls sisters.
I press speed dial number one and wait for her to answer. She’s five feet four of dynamite with shoulder length brown hair and hazel eyes. Where I might be more quiet and reserved, Holly will tell it like it is. Sometimes her honesty can be a hard pill to swallow, but ultimately, she’s always upfront and direct with me and has my best interest at heart. We just click.
“You’re late,” she said in way of her greeting.
“I had to read an extra princess story to the little princess tonight,” I reply, sitting down on the front porch swing with a glass of water. I love my porch swing. I would sit here year-round if I could get away with it.
“Well, I guess I’ll let it slide…this time.” I hear the humor in her voice because we both know that this won’t be anywhere close to the last time I call her late. She starts to tell me all about her shift at the ER that day. She works days with my brother, Will, at Rivers Edge Health Center, the small hospital in town. Will has been a paramedic for three years and rotates between working the ER with Holly and working the rig. Holly loves it, saying that every patient who comes in is different and keeps her on her toes. She’s the best nurse I know. She was born to heal and help. And I’m not embarrassed to admit that I’ve used her as my own personal nurse a time or two.